


This Sweet Storm

by TheFifthCharmedOne, WWEDivaJessie



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Drama, F/M, Foreign Policy, Gen, Inspired by Netflix’s The Crown, Linda McMahon - Freeform, Modified History, Multi, Political Intrigue, Romance, Scottish Royal Family, Shane McMahon - Freeform, Slow Burn, Stephanie McMahon - Freeform, The Undertaker - Freeform, Undertaker/OC - Freeform, Vince McMahon - Freeform, WWF Wrestling Timeline, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13414731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFifthCharmedOne/pseuds/TheFifthCharmedOne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WWEDivaJessie/pseuds/WWEDivaJessie
Summary: “Light is easy to love. Show me your darkness.” - In which the Undertaker (Mark Calaway) is met with his greatest challenge yet: Fiona Stewart - little does he know, there’s more to her than what meets the eye. He might be King of the locker room, but she just might be the Queen of his heart.





	1. Parisian Dreaming

****_Paris Aéroport_  
**_Paris, France  
_ ** ****_January 2, 1998_

“Please be safe.”

Fiona Stewart clung to Lyanna, her younger sister, tightly, her eyes prickling with unshed tears. Every sororal instinct warned her against allowing Lyanna to return to their homeland, but she also knew it was for the best. Their mother and father needed at least one of the children with them in this time of turmoil.

“Say hello to Mama and Papa?” Olivia, Fiona and Lyanna’s youngest sibling, asked in a small voice. (Secretly, Fiona was glad that Olivia would be going to the United States with her; that way, she wouldn’t be facing her new adventure alone.)

“Of course.” Lyanna nodded as she pulled away from Fiona. Olivia jumped into Lyanna’s arms and she swung her around, trying to express all of the love and affection she had for her baby sister in one gesture.

“Last call for flight 657, Paris to Edinburgh!”

Fiona, the eldest of the three Stewart sisters, had her chocolate brown hair plaited into a simple French braid, which fell over her shoulder and reached her belly button; short hairs collected in a fringe across her forehead. Her face was shaped like a diamond and appeared to be cut from stone, and the sharp angles were complimented by cavernous dimples. She wore light makeup, just enough to make her face shine and emphasize her eyes. She was also taller than most women, posture perfect, almost regal in her 5’8 form. At the moment, she wore a charcoal gray blouse with a low-cut collar and a black skirt, complimented by black stockings and the latest boots from Milan.

Lyanna’s hair was slightly darker, and pulled into a stylish bun atop her head, with small wisps hanging down to frame her neck. As the middle sister, she had the most fluid appearance of her sisters, looking like a true mix of their mother and father. She wore a white turtleneck long sleeve sweater, a black jumper on top. She completed the look with knee-high riding boots and very light makeup around her eyes.

Olivia, the youngest, had recently rediscovered Disney’s _The Little Mermaid_ and had insisted on wearing her Disney-inspired outfit. It was a light seafoam green short-sleeved dress, with various characters from the movie printed on it. Of the three sisters. her hair was the lightest, a chestnut brown that was naturally curly and reached just below her shoulders.

“Stay in touch!” Fiona called as Lyanna jogged away to her gate, dragging her suitcase behind her.

The middle Stewart just waved in response, and Fiona looked down at Olivia. She offered her hand to the five-year-old. “Ready?”

Olivia watched the attendant close the gate for a moment, and then looked up at Fiona with a brave expression. She wrapped her little hand in her sister’s larger one, and they ventured forward to their next adventure.

* * *

Olivia fell asleep almost immediately after takeoff, so Fiona took the chance to imagine what her new life was going to be like. She and her sisters had made an art of creating new identities for themselves, as they had been doing it for much of their adolescence.

The sun glinted off the Atlantic Ocean directly into Fiona’s eyes, so she closed her window covering with a grimace. She turned to her sister, who was curled up under one of the airline’s blankets, her seat leaned back, and lips parted ever so slightly to accompany her mouth breathing.

 _Her Royal Highness Princess Olivia of Scotland._ Fiona thought, stroking the child’s hair. The familiar weight settled on Fiona’s shoulders as she thought of her own title, and the future that had been decided for her since before she was born.

_Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Fiona of Scotland._

As the eldest, she was next in line for the throne and would take her father’s place upon his death. Scotland, contrary to popular belief, was not a part of the United Kingdom and had maintained its independence from England for centuries, even acquiring Nova Scotia in 1710. It was not a fact that was taught in history courses, but Fiona had to know in order to rule properly.

In fifty or more years, of course.

Thinking of home made an ache settle in Fiona’s chest, so she chose to think of lighter things, such as the people she would be spending the foreseeable future with in the United States.

Vince and Linda McMahon were not royalty, but they might as well be with the amount of power they held both in and out of their multi-billion dollar company, the World Wrestling Federation. Their two children, Shane and Stephanie, worked in the business as well, though Fiona wasn’t sure where they fell as far as running the company. Fiona did not know much about wrestling, just that it was scripted and violent, and not something that she wanted Olivia exposed to too much of.

She spent the rest of the flight wondering about the future and doing everything in her power not to dwell on the past, or the constant threat that hung over her family.

* * *

****_Bradley International Airport_  
**_Hartford, Connecticut  
_ ** ****_January 2, 1998_

Fiona woke Olivia as they landed, and the little girl was still rubbing her left eye as the two sisters walked down the long corridor that connected the plane to the airport 

“Na Na,” Olivia addressed Fiona, who looked down at the child. “What if we don’t like it here? Can we go back to Paris?”

“Of course we can.” Fiona answered, though she said it more to make Olivia feel better than because it had any truth to it 

They made their way through the airport, grabbing their bags, and looking for any familiar faces. Fiona made sure that Olivia didn’t wander away, or if she did, she was still within eyesight.

The Stewart sisters found the pickup/drop-off area and saw a tall man wearing an entirely black suit. He held a sign over his head that had “McMahon” printed on it in neat handwriting. Deciding it couldn’t be a coincidence, Fiona approached the man.

“My name is-”

“I know who you are,” the man said, but his voice lacked any sort of threat or malice. “Your Royal Highness,” he added in a whisper, and the formal address both comforted and unnerved Fiona. She didn’t want the wrong person hearing that and causing any unnecessary problems.

“Just Fiona, please.” she requested. “This is my sister, Olivia.” She glanced down at the five year old, who had shyly hidden behind her sister’s leg. “Come now, Ollie. Say hello to the nice man.”

“Hi.” Olivia waved. “Are you going to take us to our new home?”

“Yes I am.” The man answered. Olivia looked him over, inspecting him the way she did with all strangers. She looked up at Fiona, who, after a moment, deemed the man nice enough. “Follow me.”

The man took the girls’ bags and carried them, despite Fiona’s protests that she could handle hers on her own.

“It’s only out of politeness. I’m sure you’re quite capable.” the man assured her. “My name is Andrew, but you may call me Andy.”

“Thank you kindly, Andrew.” Fiona replied; nicknames were far too familiar to use upon first encounters.

Andy led the two princesses to a sleek black limousine and soon they were pulling away from Bradley International and were on route to Greenwich, where their new lives would truly begin.

* * *

****_Conyers Farm (The McMahon Mansion)_  
**_Greenwich, Connecticut  
_ ** ****_January 2, 1998_

The mansion was huge, even by royal standards.

Fiona, Lyanna, and Olivia had always lived frugally; only spending money when necessary and never without their parents’ permission. As they were using the Scottish royal funds, it was the considerate thing to do. They had lived in three different apartments while in France, moving whenever the Royal Guard instructed them to do so.

So, needless to say, seeing the mansion and knowing it was where they would be loving for the foreseeable future was quite shocking to these purposely sheltered girls.

Conyers Farm was a sprawling, ten-acre abode that towered over Fiona and Olivia, and Andrew was explaining some of its history to them as they approached the front door.

“Mr. McMahon bought the company from his father, Vincent J. McMahon, in 1972. As he has built the Worldwide Wrestling Federation into what it is today, he has progressively added to his abode. It now has seven bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a gym, guest rooms – you will each get your own – two gardens, and an outdoor swimming pool.”

“Come now, Andy. That’s enough. Don’t overwhelm the poor girls.” A female voice called from the front door, which was now opened wide to reveal a 5’6 woman with short blonde hair and kind blue eyes. “I’m Linda, Vince’s wife. Welcome to the United States, and to our home.”

“Thank you.” Fiona said, still staring at the massive mansion. “I’m Fiona, and this is Olivia.”

“Are they here?” A familiar voice called, and out came Vince McMahon himself. Fiona had only seen him once or twice in person, and Olivia never had. “Welcome, welcome.” he said in his distinct gravelly voice. “It’s chilly out here, let’s get inside and get you settled.”

Fiona and Olivia allowed themselves to be led and couldn’t help but gaze in awe at the opulence and wealth they were surrounded by.

Vince and Linda showed them the kitchen, the living area, Linda’s home office, and then eventually, their bedrooms.

Jet-lagged and overwhelmed, Fiona and Olivia got ready for bed earlier than they normally would have and were asleep before 8 p.m.

* * *

The next morning, Fiona awoke feeling disoriented. Part of her expected to see the ceiling of her Parisian bedroom, so the purple was jarring and unfamiliar.

At some point, Olivia had come in and cuddled beside Fiona, scared and homesick; and Fiona couldn’t blame her. They had been on the run since before she was born, she didn’t know a life other than this one – she had never even seen their castle in Scotland. Part of Fiona detested the terrorists that had destroyed their lives so many times over – but it was a very small part. Her heart didn’t have room for hatred.

“Good morning,” Linda McMahon strode into the room, already dressed in a black pantsuit. “How did you sleep?”

Olivia moaned and blinked sleepily. Upon seeing Linda, she hugged Fiona tighter, not out of fear, but out of a need for familiarity.

“I slept quite well, thank you.” Fiona answered. “Ollie, it’s okay.” she soothed the little girl.

“Breakfast is ready in the kitchen, if you’re hungry.” Linda said. “Didn’t you like your room, Olivia?” she asked.

Olivia nodded timidly.

“But I don’t like sleeping away from Na Na.” Olivia answered. “Can we have the same room please?”

Linda looked at Fiona for approval, and Fiona nodded. Truthfully, she didn’t like being away from Olivia either, but again, her pride would not allow her to say it out loud.

“I’ll make the arrangements.” Linda said, walking toward the door. “The bathroom you’ll be using is down the hall and to the left.”

Fiona nodded and kissed the top of Olivia’s head. Forcing her feelings down, Fiona focused on getting Olivia ready for the day.

* * *

“Miss Fiona, you don’t have to do that. I take care of it,” the lead maid, Maria, fussed as Fiona scrubbed the dishes clean. She was a Mexican immigrant who spoke broken Spanglish, often switching to her native tongue when distressed. 

“I’m happy to help.” Fiona insisted. “Olivia, dry these?”

Maria continued to fret as the two sisters cleaned up their breakfast dishes, along with everyone else’s.

The clacking of heels alerted the three women to Linda’s arrival, and Fiona briefly wondered if Maria was going to have an aneurysm.

“Miss Linda! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want her too-" 

“That’s quite alright Maria, if Fiona and Olivia want to do the dishes, it’s fine by me.” She smiled at the maid, who seemed to deflate in relief. “Fiona, do you have any administrative experience?”

Fiona thought about it.

“I worked in a few different offices while we lived in Paris, if that’s what you mean." 

“How would you like to be my personal assistant?”

A plate clattered to the bottom of the aluminum sink as Fiona stared at Linda 

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I offered you a job.” Linda said, as though she were talking about the weather. “I’m the President and CEO of WWF, and I’ve been looking for a personal assistant for a few months now. Stephanie’s my receptionist; and as much as I would love to promote her, I will not be accused of nepotism. 

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Fiona said, barely able to speak.

Linda looked her over.

“I’ll tell you what – come to my office with me today, get an idea of what it’s like to work in the business, and let me know by 5 whether you want the job or not.”

Wordlessly, Fiona and Olivia finished the dishes and followed Linda to her car.

* * *

****_World Wrestling Federation Headquarters_  
**_Stamford, Connecticut  
_ ** ****_January 3, 1998_

It took exactly twelve minutes for Linda to drive from her home in Greenwich to the WWF Headquarters in Stamford. Fiona and Olivia stared, awestruck at the sheer magnitude of the building. Guards stood at each entrance, ensuring that no unauthorized person would enter the complex.

“They’re with me.” Linda said simply to the largest guard, who was presumably also in charge, and after looking over the princesses, he allowed them through without so much as a ‘hello’.

“Morning Mom,” Stephanie said cheerily from her desk, which was double Olivia’s height and made of pure granite. “Oh, are they…”

“Yes, Stephanie. I’d like to introduce you to Fiona and Olivia Stewart.”

Stephanie walked out from behind the desk and revealed that she was a woman of medium-height and build with long chestnut brown hair, similar to Olivia’s. Her eyes were curious and genuine, and Fiona felt herself warming up to her immediately.

“Please, call me Steph.” the receptionist said. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?” She gestured to the large coffee bar, which also sported a selection of bagels and fruits.

“Oh! Thank you, but no. Maria made a simply stupendous breakfast for us.”

“That’s what she does best.” Stephanie nodded with a smile. “Are you giving them a tour?” She directed this question to her mother.

“No, I’m actually trying to convince Fiona to be my new assistant.” Linda replied, and Fiona colored in embarrassment – she certainly didn’t want Stephanie to think that she was getting this job because of her title! “She insisted on helping Maria with the dishes this morning, and worked in a variety of administrative positions in France; and, what languages do you speak dear?”

“English, French, and Scottish-Gaelic.” Fiona answered.

“I like you more and more every minute.” Stephanie told her.

“I can speak some French too! _Boujour!_ ” Olivia piped up, to the general amusement of the older women.

“That’s wonderful, Olivia.” Linda told her warmly, and Olivia preened with the praise.

“Well, feel free to ask me if you have any questions.” Stephanie told them. “Mom, your eleven thirty appointment is-”

“Cancel it.”

Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. “You heard me, Steph. Cancel it.”

Stephanie immediately hurried behind the desk to call whomever she was supposed to be calling and Linda led the princesses to her office.

* * *

“So, what do you think?” Linda asked a few hours later as they drove from Stamford back to Greenwich.

“I think that I would be thrilled to work for you, Mrs. McMahon. I do have one condition though.”

“What’s that?”

“Olivia comes with me. Wherever we go, whatever is required of me, my sister must accompany us.”

“Of course. Welcome aboard.”

* * *

****_Conyers Farm (The McMahon Mansion)_  
**_Greenwich, Connecticut  
_ ** ****_Early morning January 4, 1998_

Fiona couldn’t sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself thinking about the impending future before her. Tomorrow (or, she supposed, later today) she would be going to New Haven, Connecticut with Linda, Stephanie, and Olivia for the first televised WWF event of the year: RAW is WAR.

She had absolutely no idea what to expect; despite the fact that Linda had summarized the intricacies of the wrestling world, she still felt unprepared. There was so much to learn, and not enough time to learn it.

She rolled over to her side and tried to focus on the positives, as her mother would have told her to do.

_“Remember, Fiona: no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Can you tell me which famous woman said that?”_

_“Eleanor Roosevelt.” Fiona answered promptly._

_“Very good.”_

The memory guided her to a dreamless sleep, and before she knew it, Maria was waking her up for breakfast.

* * *

**_RAW is WAR_ **

****_New Haven Coliseum_  
**_New Haven, Connecticut  
_ ** ****_January 5, 1998_

“…And for all you ladies out there, don’t you worry. Don’t you fret, don’t you fear…because there’s plenty more _wood_ where that came from.”

Admittedly, hearing a man with long blonde hair talking about his genitalia wasn’t the best introduction to WWF programming, but Fiona was intrigued nonetheless.

As a matter of security, Linda had agreed to never show Fiona or Olivia on camera. If anyone asked, they were Linda’s wards, and therefore Linda’s responsibility.

Fiona watched the events unfold on one of the many television screens around the backstage area. She covered Olivia’s eyes whenever things got too violent or vulgar, but ultimately found it entertaining, if not a bit juvenile in points.

She was impressed though by Paul Bearer’s pleas for someone named ‘Kane’ to ‘come home’. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure what the context was, but she was extremely curious.

“Now, watch this segment. I want you to see what we’re up against.” Linda told Fiona, who looked up at the screen with furrowed a brow.

“But folks in recent weeks, the Marvelous Marc Mero’s treatment of Sable has been absolutely deplorable. Let’s take a look.”

A flashing transition showed a beautiful blonde woman walking down the ramp to the ring wearing a potato sack. Another flash showed a cartoon reindeer walking down the ramp, complete with Rudolph’s bright red nose. Next, Sable was waving to the crowd and wearing a fully leather suit that barely covered her chest. Another transition and now she was wearing a simple boxer’s robe…

“He’s degraded Sable by dressing her in a potato sack.” the announcer, Michael Cole, told the audience. “…he’s publically humiliated Sable by making her wear a reindeer suit…he’s verbally accosted Sable in public…”

“I’M THE STAR, AND IF IT WASN’T FOR ME, YOU WOULDN’T BE IN NO MAGAZINE, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You know, sometimes I get so sick of looking at you. You’re pa-oh go ahead and cry!”

“He doesn’t seem so marvelous to me.” Fiona stated, and Linda smiled sadly.  

“That’s the point. We’re mere women living in a man’s world. Never forget that.”

* * *

As the show continued, Fiona began to learn that there was more to the WWF than what met the eye. There were various kinds of matches to be had; and the one that was getting the most hype at that moment?

Shawn Michaels of D-Generation X against The Undertaker in a Casket Match at the 1998 Royal Rumble, the first pay-per-view event of the year. The excitement and anticipation was contagious, and goosebumps freckled her skin as Shawn delivered what Linda called a “promo”.

“Come on Undertaker, get out here so the Heartbreak Kid can smack you around in front of the whole damn world!”

A few tense seconds later, and an echoing bell began to toll, signaling the arrival of the Undertaker.

Six cloaked figures began rolling a wooden graffiti-covered casket to the ramp. Michaels mocked the “druids” and clearly believed that his friends Chyna and Triple H were in the casket, just as they had been last week.

He believed this until the two other members of DX came out onto the stage and the Undertaker himself rose out of the casket and dragged Michaels inside. Naturally, for the sake of drama, the screen faded to black as the casket shook with the beating Michaels was likely receiving from Undertaker.

“So, what do you think?” Stephanie asked Fiona after the fans had left the arena and the area was gradually getting packed up. Fiona helped out wherever she could, earning the respect of the crew right off the bat.

In that moment, the Undertaker, still in costume, walked past the two women, and his eyes met Fiona’s. On screen, he was imposing, but in person, he was intimidating…and extremely attractive.

They stared each other down, clearly in some sort of unspoken competition, until Undertaker finally broke the connection and walked away, leaving Fiona bewildered and Stephanie staring between them.

* * *

 


	2. A World Within Our Own

* * *

 

 **** _RAW is WAR  
_ _New Haven Coliseum  
_ _New Haven, Connecticut  
_ _Early morning, January 6, 1998_

“You sure that’s not too much for you?” Jason Robinson, one of the WWF’s production managers, asked Fiona as she carried a particularly heavy piece of audio equipment.

“If I needed help, I’d ask for it.” Fiona replied with a smile. Jason smirked and held up his hands in a mock defensive stance, letting her carry the device. “Is that it?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Thanks for all your help, really.” Jason told her earnestly. “It’s not even close to your job description to help us carry this crap.” he gestured to one of the many equipment trucks.

“You’ll find that Fiona excels at doing things out of her job description.” Linda said, walking toward them. Jason nodded toward the CEO as a show of respect and went about the rest of his duties. “So, what do you think?”

“I think…” A memory of the Undertaker watching her flashed unbidden in her mind’s eye. Strangely, she smiled even wider as it did, which Linda mistook as enthusiasm. “I think I’m really going to enjoy it here.”

“That’s good to hear.” Linda’s face lit up and Fiona couldn’t help the small skip in her step as she and her new boss approached the former’s car for the drive back to Greenwich. “Oh, before we go, I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Linda said, and they turned back to the arena, only to find the Undertaker walking toward them.

Except now he was wearing civilian clothes, which gave Fiona a better chance to look him over. “Right on cue. Fiona, this is the Undertaker, or as we call him, the Phenom. He’s one of our best superstars to date.”

“My name’s Mark. Mark Calaway.” he said, meeting Fiona’s gaze once again. A charged energy permeated between the two of them, the kind without a name, but still tangible in its intensity.

Mark wore all black, even off camera. Faded black jeans were accompanied by a black and gray plaid shirt, complete with cowboy boots and an extremely alluring Texas drawl. On anyone else, Fiona mused, it would look like a Halloween costume, but on him…she let her eyes drag over the muscles and tattoos across his body…it worked well. Very well.

“Fiona Stewart.” Fiona offered her hand for him to shake, and he took it. “Nice to meet you, Mark.”

For his part, Mark took in the beautifully petite woman in front of him, all creamy pale skin and dark flowing locks of hair. She wore a jean skirt with a floral design on the right side, and a flowy light red blouse that matched the skirt perfectly. Her eyes were what drew him in the most, though, a deep brown that reminded him of chocolate and cinnamon. His gaze found hers yet again and Fiona gave him a small smile – one that he wasn’t sure how to interpret, but was very curious to learn more about.

* * *

**_Linda McMahon’s Office_ **

_WWF Corporate Headquarters  
_ **_Stamford, Connecticut  
_ ** _January 6, 1998_

“I have a surprise for you,” Linda told Fiona later that morning. She and Olivia were still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, as they had been out ridiculously late the night before and had gotten very little sleep.

They approached a wooden door within Linda’s office. At one point it had probably been a closet but now the door had a freshly polished golden nameplate on it which read: _Fiona Stewart, Personal Assistant to President and CEO Linda McMahon_.

“My own office?” Fiona gasped as Linda smiled widely and opened the door for the two princesses.

Inside, a modest corner office had been constructed for her; it had a desk, lamp, computer, chairs in front of the desk, and a small couch opposite that. A floor-to-ceiling window was easily the room’s most appealing feature, and it currently showed the gorgeous Connecticut countryside.

“It’s perfect.” Fiona told Linda. “Thank you very much.”

Olivia flew into the room, jumping onto the love seat.

“THE FLOOR IS LAVA!” She shouted. Both Linda and Fiona took spots on the couch and desk chair respectively, giggling like madwomen and gleefully taking part in the child’s game.

* * *

 

 _RAW is WAR  
_ _Bryce Jordan Center  
_ **_State College, Pennsylvania  
_ ** _January 12, 1998_

The next six days were like a Midwest tornado for Fiona as she acclimated to being Linda’s personal assistant. Along the way, she met numerous WWF superstars and had begun forming close friendships with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Triple H, Chyna, Sable, and Debra, among other staff and talent. They welcomed her into the wrestling world with open arms, and it felt like a warm hug from an old family friend.

She also formally met Shane McMahon, Steph’s brother, when he came by the office one afternoon while Linda was out.

Above all else though, the wrestler she was the most curious about was Undertaker. His domination in the ring and classy Southern gentleman personality had charmed her, and she wanted to get to know him better.

Unfortunately, Mark was scheduled to reappear on WWF programming until the Royal Rumble, where he would face Shawn Michaels for the WWF World Heavyweight Championship in a Casket Match. They had been building up the confrontation for weeks, and it was all finally going to come to a head.

* * *

 

 _Pre-Show Training  
_ _San Jose Arena  
_ **_San Jose, California  
_ ** _January 18, 1998_

Olivia and Fiona sat in the VIP section of the arena, watching as the wrestlers prepared for their matches to come that night. They were going in order that the matches were going to happen, ensuring that the stars all knew what script they had to follow.

While Mark was practicing with Shawn, Olivia tapped Fiona’s shoulder.

“Can we read more?” she asked, gesturing to the tattered book in Fiona’s lap. It had a black-haired boy next to a train and was titled _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone._ Still a new series, it was one that Fiona and her sisters had come to cherish. They were eagerly awaiting the follow up novel that was set to come out later in the year in the UK, and next year in the US. _I wonder if Linda would object to us going back to France to get it sooner?_ Fiona wondered mildly.

“Take ten!” the referee called out, and Mark came walking over to them.

“What are you ladies reading?” Mark asked.

Fiona opened her mouth to respond, but Olivia spoke first.

“Are you a giant?” Olivia asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“No, but I knew one.” Mark answers. “His name was André.”

“Was he as tall as you?”

“Taller.”  Olivia’s jaw dropped. Fiona and Mark share a bemused smile.

“I like him. You should marry him Na Na.” Fiona gasped and immediately blushed scarlet.

“ _Olivia_!” she cried, mortified. “Please, feel free to ignore her.” she said to Mark, who chuckled.

“Actually, I was wondering-” Mark began, but was cut off by a shrill whistle. Fiona blinked – how had ten minutes gone by so quickly?

“Taker! Time for more practice!” the referee called. He turned to go, but before he walked away, he said to Olivia,

“Hermione is my favorite character.”

Fiona swore that Olivia swooned.

* * *

 _Royal Rumble  
_ _San Jose Arena  
_ **_San Jose, California  
_ ** _January 18, 1998_

It had all come down to this.

Fiona couldn’t hold back a laugh as Shawn was briefly cowed by the pyrotechnics of Undertaker’s entrance. She wasn’t sure if that was kayfabe or not, but it was still funny to see a grown man scared by fireworks.

Olivia’s eyes were glued to the screen, and Fiona smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm. She had truly taken all of the changes in their lives far better than most in her situation, and for that, Fiona was very proud.

The match started and Shawn took an early lead, his speed and smaller size aiding him well against the Undertaker’s mass. However, he made a DX cross gesture toward the crowd (probably Mike Tyson) and regretted it when Taker used his superhuman strength to toss Shawn into the turnbuckle. Michaels managed to turn it around and hit Taker with a flurry of jabs, which didn’t even seem to bother the taller man.

It took less than five minutes for Taker to wrap his hand around Shawn’s neck and grin like he was going to hit him with the chokeslam – until Michaels kicked Taker’s knee and freed himself.

The match was back and forth, multiple almost victories for the Undertaker before the match had reached its halfway point.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Olivia cried out when Shawn threw a fistful of powder at the Undertaker, blocking his vision and slowing him down.

“Anything goes in a casket match.” Fiona replied. She remembered seeing that bit in the script for the event and even though she disagreed with it morally, it did fit Michaels’s persona to cheat.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley, Shawn’s best friend and tag team partner, aided him against the Undertaker, using his crutch as a weapon. A small sob escaped from Olivia when Triple H pressed the crutch into Undertaker’s throat.

“It’s okay Ollie.” Fiona comforted. Olivia didn’t even seem to hear her, she was so enraptured by the match.

“Yes!” Olivia cheered when Undertaker came through with an uppercut from the casket. “Yay! Go Taker!”

Fiona watched as Taker recovered himself, fighting back against all odds, and felt the first ripples of attraction flutter in her stomach.

“What do you think, Ollie? Are you a creature of the night?”

Olivia’s only response was a broad smile before she turned back to the screen.

Naturally, right when it seemed that Michaels was going to win mostly on his own, he got help from DX in Chyna taking out the referee and a crowd of superstars attacking the Undertaker.

“Oh no!” Olivia covered her mouth and her eyes widened. “No, no, no, no!”

Fiona’s heart ached a little, but she refused to ruin the illusion for her.

Just then, the screen went dark and Kane appeared. Fiona’s eyebrows furrowed – Kane and Undertaker were brothers? She couldn’t remember seeing that anywhere in the script and no one had told her…

“On-screen brothers.” Stephanie said quietly, suddenly beside the two.

“Oh.” Fiona nodded.

The rest of the match was a blur – Kane turned on his brother (not for the first time) – and with the help of Paul Bearer, finished the match for Shawn. Then, to add to the spectacle, they locked Undertaker in the casket and set it on fire.

Olivia truly began to cry as she watched the casket burn. Fiona hugged her little sister, trying to reassure her without giving away the kayfabe aspect of WWF.

“He’s the Deadman, remember? He’s not going down that easily.” Fiona kissed the top of Olivia’s head. Olivia sniffled but nodded.

* * *

 _Royal Rumble  
_ _San Jose Arena  
_ **_San Jose, California  
_ ** _Early morning, January 19, 1998_

Hours later, after the show had concluded for the night and all the fans had left the arena, Mark stumbled to the backstage area.

 After getting checked out by the medical staff, he sighed heavily. It didn’t matter that the whole thing had been scripted and previously agreed on – his body still ached like he’d been run over by an eighteen-wheeler.

“You were great out there.”

Fiona approached him, smiling.

“You were watching?” Mark asked.

“Every second.”

Something clicked in Mark’s head then. A feeling that if he didn’t do this now, he’d never do it. Forcing down the nervousness he felt, he said,

“Would you like to go out to dinner?”

Fiona’s face turned pink, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I would love too.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello out there! Welcome, welcome to “This Sweet Storm”, a WWF/E fanfiction starring The Undertaker (Mark Calaway) and Fiona Stewart, an original character created by my best friend, Jess!  
> We’ve been working on this story and outline almost nonstop since the beginning of the month, and while the outline is still incomplete, we have a pretty good idea of where it’s going to go and how things are going to develop. 
> 
> We hope that you’ve enjoyed the first chapter and will stick around for future updates!
> 
> Thanks for reading, please review/comment/leave kudos, any support helps!
> 
> -Charmy and Jess


End file.
